If ever my negligence could be excused by your good natured
friendship, it would be from the consideration of my present
circumstances, and I am sure that your regard for me is of so pure
and disinterested a character that you had much rather I should be
happy without hearing from me, than if you received by every post a
regular succession of complaints. Happily indeed have I passed two
short months since my arrival at Paris, and every circumstance of
my journey has more than answered my most sanguine expectations. My
connection with the Neckers, who every day acquire more power and
deserve more respect, first opened the door to me, and perhaps the
reputation of a popular writer has contributed a little to enlarge
the entrance. I pass my time in the society of men of letters,
people of fashion, the higher ranks of _the clergy_, and the foreign
Ministers, and except when I wish to steal a few moments' privacy, it
seldom happens to me to dine or sup at my hotel. The vacancies of my
time are filled by the public libraries in the morning, and in the
afternoon by the spectacles, and as part of my acquaintance begin
to disperse themselves in the environs of Paris, I have contrived,
though in a most unfavourable season, to make several very pleasant
excursions. Such is the general idea of my life, in which I have made
many acquaintance and formed some more intimate connections, from all
of which I receive civilities, amusement and information. Details
would be infinite, and must be reserved for your fireside at Bath;
but I cannot forbear saying something of two or three persons whom
you know.
First then you will expect to hear of Mrs. Mallet. Mr. Scott had
desired me to take charge of a letter, and I delivered it to her own
fair hands the second day after my arrival. She received me with a
shriek of joy and a close embrace, and we sat down to talk of old
and new subjects. I found her exactly the same talkative, positive,
passionate, conceited creature as we knew her twenty years ago.
She raved with her usual indiscretion and fury of Gods, Kings and
Ministers, the perfections of her favourites and the vice or folly
of every person she disliked. Unfortunately she had applied to
Mr. Necker for some favour, and had not been received in a manner
suitable to her importance. Her resentment was expressed in such
indecent language, that after repeated but ineffectual hints of my
intimate connection with the person she was abusing, I was obliged to
shorten my visit with a firm resolution of never returning.
Your favourite, the Duke of Richmond, has fallen in my way infinitely
more than he ever did in England, and I do assure you that the air
of Paris agrees perfectly well with him. He is easy, attentive and
cheerful, pays his court to young and to old women, and is extremely
popular and even fashionable in the Society of Paris. I have likewise
seen a great deal of the Sardinian Ambassadress whom you have
formerly known with Lady Cobham, under the name of Miss Speed. She
keeps a very hospitable house, and has acquired the manners of the
country without losing the sentiments of her own. Adieu, Dear Madam.
If you can think of any commissions for me I will execute them with
care and pleasure, though I have no occasion for any memento to make
me often think of you.
Sir Stanier will be so good as to forward anything to me.
320.
_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._
Paris, August the 11th, 1777.
*Well, and who is the Culprit now?--Thus far I had written in the
pride of my heart, and fully determined to inflict an Epistle upon
you, even before I received any answer to my former; I was very near
a Bull. But this forward half line lay ten days barren and inactive,
till its generative powers were excited by the missive which I
received yesterday.
[Sidenote: NO IMMEDIATE RISK OF FRENCH WAR.]
What a wretched piece of work do we seem to be making of it in
America! The greatest force which any European power ever ventured to
transport into that Continent, is not strong enough even to attack
the enemy; the Naval strength of Great Britain is not sufficient
to prevent the Americans (they have almost lost the appellation of
Rebels) from receiving every assistance that they wanted; and in the
mean time you are obliged to call out the Militia to defend your own
coasts against their privateers.[369] You possibly may expect from
me some account of the designs and policy of the French Court, but
I chuse to decline that task for two reasons: 1^{st,} Because you
may find them laid open in every newspaper; and 2^{ndly,} Because I
live too much with their Courtiers and Ministers to know anything
about them. I shall only say that I am not under any immediate
apprehensions of a War with France. It is much more pleasant as
well as profitable to view in safety the raging of the tempest,
occasionally to pick up some pieces of the Wreck, and to improve
their trade, their agriculture, and their finances, while the two
countries are _lento collisa duello_. Far from taking any step to put
a speedy end to this astonishing dispute, I should not be surprized
if next summer they were to lend their cordial assistance to England,
as to the weaker party. As to my personal engagement with the D[uke]
of R[ichmond], I recollect a very few slight skirmishes, but nothing
that deserves the name of a general engagement. The extravagance
of some disputants, both French and English, who have espoused the
cause of America, sometimes inspires me with an extraordinary vigour.
Upon the whole, I find it much easier to defend the justice than the
policy of our Measures; but there are certain cases, where whatever
is repugnant to sound policy ceases to be just.
The more I see of Paris, the more I like it.[370] The regular course
of the Society in which I live is easy, polite, and entertaining;
and almost every day is marked by the acquisition of some new
acquaintance, who is worth cultivating, or who, at least, is worth
remembering. To the great admiration of the French, I regularly dine
and regularly sup, drink a dish of strong Coffee after each meal, and
find my stomach a citizen of the World. The Spectacles, (particularly
the Italian, and above all the French Comedie) which are open the
whole summer, afford me an agreeable relaxation from Company; and to
shew you that I frequent them from taste only, and not from idleness,
I have not yet seen the Colisee, the Vauxhall, the Boulevards, or
any of those places of entertainment which constitute Paris to
most of our Countrymen. Occasional trips to dine or sup in some of
the thousand Country-houses which are scattered round the environs
of Paris, serve to vary the scene. In the mean while the summer
insensibly glides away, and the fatal month of October approaches,
when I must exchange the house of Madame Necker for the house of
Commons.
[Sidenote: PARIS BECOMING EMPTY.]
I regret that I could not chuse the winter, instead of the Summer,
for this excursion: I should have found many valuable persons, and
should have preserved others whom I have lost as I began to know
them. The Duke de Choiseul, who deserves attention both for himself,
and for keeping the best house in Paris, passes seven months of the
year in Touraine; and though I have been tempted, I consider with
horror a journey of sixty leagues into the Country. The Princess of
Beauvau* (by the bye Beauveau, fine calf, is an orthography worthy of
a Sussex farmer), the Princess of Beauvau, *who is a most superior
Woman, has been absent above six weeks, and does not return till the
24^{th} of this month. A large body of Recruits will be assembled by
the Fontainbleau journey; but in order [to] have a thorough knowledge
of this splendid Country, I ought to stay till the month of January;
and if I could be sure that opposition would be as tranquil as they
were last year--
I think your life has been as animated, or, at least, as tumultuous,
and I envy you Lady Payne,[371] and Lady Dy, &c. much more than
either the Primate,[372] or the Chief Justice.[373] Let not the
generous breast of Mylady be torn by the black serpents of envy.
She still possesses the first place in the sentiments of her slave:
but the adventure of the fan was a mere accident, owing to Lord
Carmarthen. Adieu. I think you may be satisfied. I say nothing of my
terrestrial affairs.* Good works are unnecessary, as I can only hope
to be justified by my faith in the merit of my Redeemer John Holroyd.
[369] "American privateers," writes Walpole, July 17, 1777,
"infest our coasts; they keep Scotland in alarms, and even the
harbour of Dublin has been newly strengthened with cannon." On
August 7 the crew of a privateer landed at Penzance and plundered
several farmers of their live stock. It was in the following
year, April, 1778, that Paul Jones first harried the English and
Scottish coasts.
[370] In _The Private Correspondence of David Garrick_ (vol. ii.
pp. 255, 256) is printed a letter from Gibbon to Garrick, written
from the "Hôtel de Modène, rue Jacob, Fauxbourg St. Germain," at
Paris, and dated August 14th, 1777. Gibbon begins by thanking
Garrick for a kindly mention of his name. "It is pleasant to find
one's-self mentioned with friendship by those whom posterity will
mention with admiration. Foreign nations are a kind of posterity,
and among them you already reap the full reward of your fame."
"You have reason," he continues, "to envy me, for I can truly
declare that I reckon the three months which I have now passed
in Paris among the most agreeable of my life. My connection with
a house, before which the proudest of the Gallic nobles bow the
knee, my familiar acquaintance with the language, and a natural
propensity to be pleased with the people and their manners, have
introduced me into very good company; and, different in that
respect from the traveller Twiss, I have sometimes been invited
to the same houses a second time. If besides these advantages
your partiality should ascribe any others to your friend, I am
not proud enough entirely to disclaim them. I propose to stay
at Paris about two months longer, to hook in (if possible) a
little of the Fontainebleau voyage, and to return to England a
few days before the meeting of Parliament, where I suppose we
shall have some warm scenes. You cannot surely be satisfied with
the beginning, or rather no beginning, of the American campaign,
which seems to elevate the enemies as much as it must humble the
friends of Great Britain.
"At this time of year, the society of the Turk's-head" (in
Gerrard Street, where the Literary Club met) "can no longer be
addressed as a corporate body, and most of the individual members
are probably dispersed; Adam Smith in Scotland; Burke in the
shades of Beaconsfield; Fox, the Lord or the devil knows where,
&c., &c. Be so good as to salute in my name those friends who may
fall in your way. Assure Sir Joshua, in particular, that I have
not lost my relish for _manly_ conversation and the society of
the brown table. I hope Colman has made a successful campaign.
May I beg to be remembered to Mrs. Garrick? By this time she
has probably discovered the philosopher's stone; she has long
possessed a much more valuable secret,--that of gaining the
hearts of all who have the happiness of knowing her.
"I am, dear Sir, most affectionately yours,
"E. GIBBON."
[371] Françoise Lambertine, daughter of Baron Kolbel, married,
September 1, 1767, "a rich West Indian," Ralph Payne (knighted in
1771), a son of the Governor of St. Christopher's, and himself
Governor of the Leeward Islands (1771-75). Sir Ralph represented
various constituencies in Parliament from 1768 to 1799, and,
with his wife, was prominent in London society. He was created
Viscount Lavington. Lady Lavington survived her husband, who died
in 1807, as Governor of Antigua and a bankrupt.
[372] The Hon. Fred. Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterbury.
[373] Lord Mansfield, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench.
321.
_To his Stepmother._
Hotel de Modene à Paris, September the 1st, 1777.